


Lifted Geas

by thecookiemomma



Series: Scion of the Merlin [1]
Category: Dresden Files - Jim Butcher, NCIS
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fusion, M/M, Pre-Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-07-17
Updated: 2011-07-17
Packaged: 2017-10-21 11:54:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,734
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/224913
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thecookiemomma/pseuds/thecookiemomma
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tony DiNozzo is a wizard who's been living under a geas for all these years.  After the events of Changes (Dresden), he is called back into the world into which he was born.  He wants to follow Harry's example and keep his Normal job.  Thing is, this is going to be a problem.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Lifted Geas

Tony stepped off the elevator into the bullpen and strode over to their section. He stopped in front of Gibbs' desk, and waited until the man looked up. “Yes, DiNozzo, got a problem?”

“Yeah, Boss. Can I talk to you in your office?” He chewed on his bottom lip, shifted his weight from foot to foot.

“What's the matter, Tony, get a girl in trouble?” He turned to look over at McGee, and scowled.

“No.” He was terse, and it made all of them look up at him. He sighed. “Look. It's complicated. It's – it's family stuff, and ...” He gave them a half-truth. It _was_ family stuff, it just wasn't _all_ family.

“Back to work, you two. C'mon, DiNozzo, what are you waiting for? Christmas?” Gibbs stood up, strode toward the elevator with his normal purposeful step, and Tony hurried to step in place behind him.

When they reached the elevator and had finally shut the door, flipping the emergency switch, Gibbs turned to him, and gave him a searching look. “What's goin' on, DiNozzo? You in some kind'a trouble?”

“No, Boss, not exactly, Boss. Do you remember when I left for that weekend a couple years ago and said that should be it as far as family obligations?” Tony winced. Gibbs was not going to like this, especially if he couldn't explain.

“Yeah. You tellin' me somethin's happened and you gotta go back?” Gibbs' eyes narrowed. _Fuck. He really wasn't gonna like this._

“No, Boss, not exactly boss.” Tony's hands described a random arc in the air and he looked away from Gibbs' face, unable to watch the disapproval that always seemed to lurk below the surface. Besides, he didn't want to risk a soulgaze. Now that the geas had been lifted, he had to watch that sort of thing. But then again, it might be a good way to … _No. Then he'd really kill me._

“Then, what, DiNozzo? C'mon. You're wastin' valuable time. Petty Officer Martin's killer won't wait for long.” The case. Always the case. Tony sighed.

“Yes, Boss.” He gave another long sigh, and then started to explain. “Look. My mom's side of the family was kind of interesting. And my great-grandfather i—was very powerful, and left us with some huge familial obligations. I told you about that, kinda. Well, the onus passed to another family for a while. Except – except last week, my …” He had to pause. What was Dresden to him anyway? Fellow White Council Wizard, yes, but how to explain this to him? Simple and in terms he'd understand. “Okay. Long story short. My family always do this job, and my friend Harry stepped in and did the job for me. Except last week, he got killed trying to rescue his little girl, and so I'm on tap. It's actually kind of similar to what we do here, except for a very specialized group of people and not all the time. I can keep doing my job, but I might get called at really weird times. Also,” he winced again, “Um, I'm going to start having trouble doing a few things around here. Mostly things having to do with computers, cell phones, anything technology related.” He chanced a look at Gibbs' face, and looked down, certain he wore a sheepish expression. “No, seriously. Because Harry was willing to do this job, my relatives sort of gave me something like a suppression medication. When Harry died, they stopped it.” That was the deal. They'd let him walk away if he came back when they called. And this was how they called.

“Tony, that's the biggest load of bullshit I've ever heard. Sounds like you just want a chance to run off and do another undercover op, or get out of doing your work.” Gibbs growled his response, hitting the elevator wall with an open hand.

“No, Boss.” Cold fury welled up inside him. “No, Boss. On second thought, this was probably not the best place for this conversation. C'mon. I'm taking you to get a coffee. It'll be safer. Trust me. Because I'm getting angry, and if...” _Shit. He couldn't even explain that much._ “Just c'mon. Before it gets dangerous.” He reached over and flipped the switch, making sure the button stayed lit. He wasn't sure how long it would be before the geas wore off completely, but he didn't want to risk hurting Gibbs too much.

“What the hell, DiNozzo? You'd better have a damn good explanation for me.” Gibbs was fuming too, now.

“That's just it, Boss. I can't. I'm sworn to secrecy. Not even 'Need-to-know'. More like 'safety of the planet.' Because if ...” He closed his eyes, sentence cut off by the bell of the elevator. “Just come on.” He tamped down on the rising anger, and strode out of the building before letting it loose. His skin started to spark a little, and he groaned. _Dammit. Time was running out. Of course, they wouldn't let him have enough time to get his affairs in order._

They arrived at the coffee stand, and Tony bought Gibbs a coffee, handing it to him with slightly more force than necessary. Luckily it didn't spill. Rule 23 was safe. He rolled his eyes, and then drew his lips into a pensive frown. _That might be a way to explain it._

“Look Boss, this is going to sound really hinky, but here it is. You know how you have all these rules that you pretty much keep all the time? Well, my Mom's family's the same way, only if you don't keep the rules, you and or the other person involved get into danger. Like lethal danger. There are a few times you're allowed to break them, but right now, Harry's death and the shit around it have thrown them into a real mess. So, they're very touchy about the rules right now. I can ask if I can explain a few things to you, but I have a feeling they're not going to bend.” He gestured toward a small stone table with two seats. “And they're also coming out of a shake up in the core of the organization, and the – agents, for lack of a better word, well, a lot of them were compromised or killed. I'm not even sure who's in charge right now. But,” he paused for a moment to settle himself down on one of the seats at the table, then continued. “But they've given me a long hiatus. It was more than what I expected.” He looked down, hands twisting together, bleeding the excess energy off into the mists before it could coalesce and start him sparking again. “If I don't do this, I could get in serious trouble. I've trained for this. I can still work for you, but I have to have a few concessions. I have a way to prove the truth of this, but it's – it's risky, Boss. And I don't want to hurt you. Because once you cross that line, you can't go back. And I can't make that decision for you. It's – it's dangerous unless you're – born into it, I guess.” He saw the worry cross Gibbs' face for just a moment, before he schooled it back into a neutral expression. “It's not illegal, Boss. I promise. Well,” he winced, thinking about the killing of warlocks. “It's mostly legal. And the parts that aren't are kind of … shortcuts. Like enforcing the law of another nation on its embassy. Sort of.” He took a deep breath, then let it out, waiting to hear what Gibbs would say. If Gibbs opted for the soulgaze, it could get very interesting indeed.

“How much time you gonna need, DiNozzo?” Gibbs took a long sip of his coffee, clearly processing the massive amount of information Tony'd just handed him.

“I don't know, Boss. I have to go talk to them in Edinburgh, and find out what the requirements are. I want to work here, and that's probably where they need me with Harry's death. He was in Chicago.” He looked down. He'd heard all about the mess with the Reds through the 'grapevine', and it wasn't pretty. He wondered how in the hell Harry had accomplished all that, and then sighed. He ran a hand down over his face, and looked back up, narrowly avoiding the pull of a soulgaze. “Shit.”

“What, Tony?” Gibbs looked concerned.

“Time's running out, Boss. I either get a couple concessions, or I figure out what else I have to do. Because I've been hiding for so long. I'm not really ….”

“Not really _what_ , DiNozzo? You're gonna have to start making some sort of sense, here, because I'm lost.” Gibbs took another long drink of his coffee, and sat the cup down. He leaned back on the seat, waiting for a response.

“Well, like I said. I can sort of prove it to you, but it's kind of dangerous. And since the – um – suppression is wearing off, it may come off a little weird. Not exactly right quite yet. I can wait until it's completely off, but then I have to have those concessions, or... Boss, you really don't want me in that building without a couple precautions. It's just not going to be pretty.”

“Like what kind of concessions, DiNozzo? What precautions?” He could tell he was getting extremely frustrated with this.

“I can't be around technology. Not unless I set up a couple things first. Which I can do at my desk. But I can't go down into Abby's lab at all. I don't think she'd like the explosions. I need an old-style phone. Think rotary, Boss. I might be able to shoot scenes if I use an old camera, or one without a lot of electronics. It'll make it harder, but it's possible. On the plus side, I can track people a lot further and much better if you let me do a few weird things. And I'll be even better undercover, though I can't wear a standard wire.” They'd have to figure out _some_ way to get the information from inside to his backup. He'd cross that bridge when they got there. “I'll be able to draw much better and well...you'll see.”

“That's a lot of changes, DiNozzo. It fucks up procedure all over the place. We'll have to rewrite the book for you. I'm not sure it's worth it.”

Tony's heart fell at this pronouncement. “Right, Boss. I'll pack everything up and go to Edinburgh. I'm sure Grandfather can find me something to do there. It'd be rebuilding and shit but …”

“Is that what you want, Tony?” Gibbs looked straight at him, and Tony looked off, wishing they could 'gaze and get it over with. He missed the connection and unspoken conversation.

“No, Boss. I don't want that. I want to keep catching bad guys, keep helping. But if I can't do it without tech, then, there's gonna be a problem.” He snapped his fingers, and pulled out his cell. “Give me a moment. Hopefully there's still enough of the suppressors in my system for this to work.”

“Go on.” Gibbs looked impatient.

Tony opened up his cell. So far, so good. He looked through his address book, and called a number, lapsing into Spanish as he talked. “ _Hey, man, it's me. Tony._

The voice on the other end crowed. _“Tonio! I knew it wouldn't be long. Shame about Harry, eh?”_

“ _Yeah. Look. The geas is about to wear off, and I'm on a cell. Any advice on keeping my job? Harry did it._ ”

“ _Yeah, 'mano. Harry was a PI, though. He didn't have all the procedures and shit that you do. What about the old Accords? Have you scanned through them? Or had someone do it for you? If you're gonna wear the grey cloak, you need to give the padawans something to do._ ” He used “Padawans” in English. It made Tony's heart ache a little. He'd kind of looked up to Harry for his unorthodox methods, or what he'd heard of them, and for standing up to his great-grandfather.

“ _Could you do that? Have them look through the Accords and see what they used to do? And see if there is some sort of protocol for a wizard working in a government agency. Maybe the Laws will get me out of this, since they expect me to uphold them._ ”

“ _Sure, kiddo. You doin' alright?_ ” Tony had noticed that since the mess at Edinburgh and especially after the fall of the Red Court, wizards were finally realizing that while they had the gift of longevity, they were not, indeed, immortal. “ _You need anything_?”

“ _I don't have **any** supplies, Carlos. Could you maybe see if you could wrangle me up a starter kit, or whatever you can? Um, you know my strengths, right? I've got illusions, thaumaturgy and,_ ” He paused and took a while to think about what else he could need. “ _Basic potions. I can scrounge up what I can, too, but if I have to do some quick work, it's gonna get dirty._ ”

 

“ _You got it, 'mano._ ” Tony could hear Carlos' grin, and he smiled, too, letting the relief of finally connecting the two parts of his life peek through. That was too much for the phone. It crackled, and he added a hasty goodbye. He pulled the phone quickly away from his face, set it down on the table, and waited while it sparked wildly.

“What the _hell_ , Tony?” Gibbs stood up, backing away, eyes on the sparking phone.

“I told you, Boss. No tech. Damn. That means no hospital, either. I'll have to have Ducky take care of me full-time, or find someone else who can outside of the hospital. On the upside, though, I won't have to worry about my lungs for long.” He grinned, and his skin sparked again. He felt his magic slowly trickling back, filling his veins like a warm cup of coffee on a cool day. It sang a greeting to him, filling his empty places, and starting the repairs of all the cells that had been scarred since it had been cut off by the geas.

Gibbs looked uneasy. “What did you find out before your phone died?”

“Not a lot, Boss. I've got a few … probies, I guess you could say, looking up some stuff for me. There may be a way around all this. If not, I may have to do like my friend Harry, and get licensed as a PI. Then I could work with you, and help you out, but be free from the tech and a lot of the procedure. I'd rather stay on, but …” He laughed an easy laugh as the magic kept coming, his hair starting to stand on end a little more. “Oh, wow. That feels good.” He would've been ashamed at the sound of his voice, but he just felt so good.”

“What feels good, Tony?” It was clear that Gibbs could see something was happening, but he didn't know exactly what, of course.

“The suppressors are wearing off. They're pretty much completely off by now, Boss.” He shuddered, the pleasure of having the power singing through his veins again making him giddy. He groaned.

“Can it DiNozzo, or people are gonna think I'm messin' with ya.” Gibbs growled, but there was something to his voice that Tony Heard.

Every Council-level wizard was able to open his spiritual Sight or Hearing at will, but some had it on as a low-grade thrum all the time. Tony was that way. He'd forgotten about that. He could sense things, sometimes, like little pieces of intuitive knowledge that just popped into his brain at the most annoying of times. He'd gotten used to it, and then missed it thoroughly when it was taken away. He'd have to get used to it again, apparently.

“On it, Boss.” Tony grinned, and shook his limbs, little sparks of electricity arcing as he did.

“So, can you give me this proof yet, DiNozzo?” Gibbs was relentless, but it was unsurprising to his Senior Field Agent.

“Yeah, Boss, I can. But, for the last time, this might be a lot more than you really want to see. And, um, I'll see more of you than you ever wanted anyone to.”

“Christ, DiNozzo. You're not reassuring me, here.” Gibbs' voice had dropped to a growl again.

“Sorry, Boss.” He snorted, and shook his head. “Hard to explain. Okay, if you're serious about this, look at my eyes, please.” He'd let the other man make the first move. He made sure he was settled in on the seat, gripped the edge of the table with both hands gently for support if he needed it, and gazed straight toward his boss.

Jethro's eyes met his.

* * *

He he found himself laying on a hill in a desert very much like the one they'd ridden through when they visited the artist in Arizona. He looked through the sight at a red truck, the man in the truck a faceless gray mask that seemed to shift and morph as he continued to look. He thought maybe he saw Boone's face, and was certain he saw Ari's. The man in the truck was a criminal. He leaned in, breathed out, and pulled the trigger, killing the bastard. He felt an immense sense of satisfaction, and then the scene grayed out. He saw red hair glinting in the sunshine, smelled springtime and lilacs, and heard the laughter of a child. Then, it was ripped from him painfully like bandages from hirsute skin, except the pain lodged deep in his chest. In his soul. It aged, soured, like wine left open too long, and then he returned to the hill. Cycling over and over again between beauty and terror, bitterness and ruthless action. Bittersweet satisfaction.

* * *

When he came to again, he realized he had tears literally streaming down his face. He stood up, unabashed, walked over to the coffee stand and grabbed a couple napkins before moving to sit back down opposite his boss. “Yeah.” There had been no real surprises. He wiped his face with the napkins, ending up with blowing his running nose.

“What the hell _was_ that, DiNozzo?” Gibbs scowled his displeasure at him.

“That, Boss, was a soulgaze. I don't know what you saw, and I don't want to know. What you've got to realize is that I saw something inside of you too. Everybody soulgazes differently. My friend Carlos, who I was just talking to, he gets music. I get pictures. Thing is, that'll never go away, Boss, and every time you think about me, that'll pop up. It's something you needed to see to see the core of who I am. It's a guide as to whether I'm trustworthy, maybe, or what my main motivation is, or something like that.” Tony fidgeted, twisting the napkins in his hands.

“Calm down, DiNozzo. Abby's not gonna like you not bein' able to come down to her lab.” Gibbs was thinking of possible problems, so maybe he would let them work through it.

“She might if I tell her I'll make her babies explode.” Tony grinned.

“Not like that, you idiot. You'd have to explain a little bit to her.” Gibbs snorted, giving him that half-smile that made Tony willing to walk through hell and back for him.

“Yeah. She'd probably accept it a little more easily than --” Tony started to say, 'than you,', but stopped himself in time.

It'd gotten through, anyway. “Yeah.” Gibbs reached around and slapped the back of Tony's head. “Take the day, then come tomorrow before everybody powers up all the crap. I'll get someone to set up what they can on the desk. You'll have to explain to Vance. If your friend can find some old rule or something, that might work best.” He frowned. “You gonna be okay at your apartment? Lotta electronic things there.”

“Yeah. I just won't power them up.” He sighed heavily. “No more movies, Boss. I'll have to sell 'em all and buy the books.”

Gibbs snorted. “Wouldn't hurt you to read a little more, DiNozzo.”

“Yeah, you're probably right. Alright. I'll go get that squared away. Thanks, Boss.”

“Don't thank me yet, Tony. Lemme see what I can do first.”

“On it, Boss.” Tony stood, threw the napkins away, and walked toward his car, making lists in his head as he went.

* * *

He arrived home, moved around unplugging everything he could, then went into his bedroom to find an old bag. There were a few things he'd kept, and he'd remembered them on the way home. One of those things was going to save him a trip through the Ways.  
He pulled out a small rock, and sent a tendril of will into it, intoning the command word in Old Norse. He then mentioned his great-grandfather's title, and waited, holding the stone in his hand.

It warmed a little before he heard his granpere's voice, gruff and annoyed, barking out in Latin, “Merlinus!”

He replied easily in the same language, “ _Grandfather. I hope that I have not caught you at a bad time._ ”

“ _Anthony. I wondered if you might contact me._ ” While he spoke precise Latin, the Merlin called Tony Anthony in a very British way. Ducky reminded him of that tone, sometimes. Especially when he was pissed.

“ _Yes, Grandfather. I would like to continue to work with the agency with which I have been employed between my Warden duties. Would that be acceptable? I could monitor for any major magical disturbances from here._ ” Tony waited for the answer.

Arthur Langtry sighed. “ _I suppose, young one._ ” He paused, whispering something to someone off beside him. Tony didn't bother Listening to the words. “ _How do you intend to explain your change in status?_ ”

“ _I have already explained it as taking over a familial responsibility which lay dormant until the Warden Dresden's death. I would like to formally request the option to tell one person of my true nature should he ask again._ ” Tony paced nervously around the living room, speaking into the stone.

“ _Protocol demands that I ask you for what reason?_ ” His grandfather's voice softened, and Tony noticed in his phrasing that he was clinging to protocol. Which meant, at least if Tony was reading the situation correctly, that he would allow it if the rules would.

“ _My reasons are twofold, Honored Merlin._ ” Tony stopped pacing and stood up straight, as though he were addressing the Merlin in full Council. “ _Firstly, he is my immediate superior, and is responsible for my safety. He takes this very seriously, and any and all information that can assist with this endeavor would be very appreciated. Secondly,_ ” Tony's voice wavered a bit, the nervousness increasing, “ _I am considering my options in pursuing a long-term personal relationship with him, and it would become an issue. Also, I know that he would not bandy the information about, as he is a protector of the laws himself, firstly as a_ Marine _,_ ” Tony used the English word, both for clarity's sake, and to show respect to the Corps. “ _and now as an agent for the Naval Investigative Services._ ” He used the old name, since that had been the organization's first name and it was a descriptor more than Naming. As was polite in Wizard society.

“ _I have allowed Wizard McCoy and Wizard Liberty to listen to your request, Wizard DiNozzo, and with me, they have approved the telling of one individual, named thus:_ ” The line fell silent, waiting for Tony to give them the name for the records.

“ _One Supervisory Special Agent Gibbs, who in daily life, uses the name Jethro._ ” Tony hoped he was doing the right thing.

“ _One Supervisory Special Agent Jethro Gibbs._ ” Close enough. “ _Granted so by the Merlin and two of his council, signified by their sign._ ” Tony heard a gruff male voice and a rich contralto female voice say “ _Aye._ ” And with that, he had verbal and magical permission to tell Gibbs about his life. First, though he had to set up a few things. He pulled out a couple more boxes, getting a few things out that he wasn't sure he'd ever need again, and set to work.

* * *

The next morning, he got a call bright and early from Carlos. Carlos explained that one of the apprentices looked up and found an old agreement between the US government and the White Council. It was over a hundred years old, so Vance would probably balk at it, but it was a starting point. He dressed in his work clothes, stuffed a few random things in his pockets, and started his day.

When he arrived, at NCIS, there was only one person working in the bullpen. He politely asked her to power down her computer for a few moments, then headed to the a/v room to ask them to power down the cameras over his section for a while. It happened from time to time, and as long as someone was in the bullpen doing something and had a viable reason, it could be done. He explained that he wanted to do something special for his boss, but wanted to keep it a secret. Lied off his ass, but it worked. He began setting up a permanent ward circle around his desk, now devoid of any electronics, and only having a single rotary phone with several lines coming in to it. There was a small switchbox set up, much like the old switchboard, with little lights and wires. Tony hoped it would last. It was a very good idea, and he grinned, knowing pretty much who had set it up. It took him a while to set up the circle, anchor it to the cement below the carpet, and power it with the ley line under the building. That had been a welcome surprise. With that much power, it would protect that much more fiercely. Good.

He stuffed a few of the things he had, including a couple extra stones he'd turned into message-stones, into his desk drawers, and went to tell the lady at her desk and the A/V guy they could turn their electronics back on. He hoped it was enough. Having done all that, he waited for the day to start.

McGee was the first one in the door, and he looked around at the changes with a scowl. “What? You've finally admitted you can't do anything with technology?” He was clearly upset.

Ziva stepped through the elevator as well. “We knew that, McGee. Oh, my. Who has stolen your computer? And your telephone? Have you regressed back to the last century, Tony?”

Gibbs stepped in to save the day, as always. “Something like that. Get everything set up, DiNozzo?”

“Yes, Boss. And my probies have found a … means for explanation, and,” he gave his boss a goofy grin before continuing, “I have permission to read you in.”

“Good. We'll do that over lunch then.” Gibbs nodded, taking a sip of his coffee. “You thought about Rule 3?”

“Yes, Boss. It'll be a bit hinky, but I think it'll work.” Tony really hoped so. “It might be just you that has it. Well, maybe you and um...” He fell silent, considering his options. “You and Ducky?” He frowned. “I'd consider maybe Abby, too, but then, I don't know how it'd ...”

“Yeah, gotcha. That'll work.” Gibbs gave him that half-smile again, showing his pride. “Where you wanna meet the director?”

“Conference room? As long as they keep the screen off, I think we'll be okay. If it starts to be a problem, then I'll cut the meeting short.”

Gibbs nodded again. “I'll let him know. You get it set up. Desk's squared away?”

“Yeah, Boss, even better than I hoped. I'll have to tell you about that, after I read you in.”

“Good.” Gibbs took another long draught of his coffee, and then started toward the stairs.

“Boss, what's going on?” McGee asked, looking between the two.

“Tell ya more in a bit, McGee. Tony, explain what you can.” With that, he headed up the stairs to the Director's office.

“On it Boss.” Tony sat down in his chair and looked over at his partners. He tried to think about how to explain this without violating the secrecy. “It's like this, Probie and Probette.” They both scowled at him again, but he kept on. “I've had part of my life suppressed for about twenty years now. I have another job – kind of a family thing,” he looked pointedly at Ziva when he said that, “and someone else has been doing it. Well, now, my friend Harry died last month, and I have been required to take up the mantle.” How true that was. Carlos was on his way with his gray cloak and some extra supplies. He'd had the probies collecting those, too. He knew Tony was good for the money. If not, the Merlin would quietly chip in. After dressing Tony down, of course. “I'll still be working here, but I'll be doing other things, too. And part of this is that I can't use any electronics. Think of it as kind of like eating Kosher, except if you don't eat Kosher, you might not eat for a long time.” Ziva nodded, catching some of his underlying meaning. McGee was still confused. “You'll get it, McConfused.”

They just shrugged and went back to their desks. Tony waited for a while, then, stood up to go look in the conference room to make sure nothing else would be endangered. He thought briefly about the camera, then let it slide, figuring one replaced camera might prove his point.

It looked good, so he sat down in one of the chairs, and waited for Gibbs and Director Vance to show up.

* * *

“What's so important that you can't come up and meet me in my office?” Tony winced. That wasn't a good start. Vance sat down in the chair at the head of the table, Gibbs took the one beside him.

With all the form and poise taught to him by his tutor, Tony stood up, fell into parade rest, inhaled, and intoned, “Director Vance, I formally request a change in status in accordance with the Merlin Agreement of 1874 with special reference to the 1982 addendum regarding the use of technology in a workplace situation.” He expected to hear that the director needed to go look up the agreement, that he would have to wait it out, and that he didn't know if he could allow any huge changes. What he did not expect was for Vance's eyes to widen, his jaw to drop, and his ever-present toothpick to fall out and clatter on the table.

“A Merlin? Really? We haven't had a Merlin with us for a dozen years or more, DiNozzo. How have you functioned up til now?”

“A geas, Director. My gr--” Tony started to say 'grandfather', and decided the truth was best. “My great-grandfather placed it on me when I decided to go to college with the Normals. The condition was that if there was a hole in the Wardens, I'd come back.” He used plain language, since he seemed to know.

“And there is now?” Vance eyed him speculatively, pulling another toothpick from his pocket and unwrapping it.

“Yes, sir. Warden Dresden was shot last month.” Tony sat back down, leaned back in his seat, and waited.

“Was that part of that whole mess down in South America? What was that, anyway?” He leaned forward, hoping to get the information.

“I'd have to ask if I can share that with you, sir, but it was sort of related, yes. Warden Dresden went down to Mexico to rescue his daughter. Did so, and yeah, caused a stir.” That was the understatement of several centuries. “He got home, and from what I understand, someone didn't like what he'd done, or something else, and shot him. At sniper range. They're trying to figure it out, sir, but that's Chicago PD's thing.”

“Chicago?” The director took careful note of that. “What was this guy's name again?”

“Harry Dresden, sir. He advertised in the phone books.” Tony laughed at that.

“Oh, I bet the old robes loved that.” Vance laughed.

“Yes, sir. They do tend to complain about it. If I may ask, sir, how do you know so much about the Merlins?” He stuck with the they'd been using. Until they read Gibbs in, that was easiest.

Speaking of Gibbs, Vance eyed him for a moment, then looked back toward Tony. “Had a partner who was one for a while. He got killed on an op overseas. Travel was always interesting. He came out one time covered in this clear, thick goo that vanished ...”

“The young ones call it ectoplasm.” Tony grinned.

“Yeah, that's a good name for it.” Vance rolled his eyes. “Well, you know what'll work best. You have a way to keep in touch with Gibbs and ...”

“Ducky, sir. Yes. Communication stones. I'll imbue them with power, and as long as they stay in this building, it's kind of like charging. This building sits on a fairly strong ley line, so that won't be a problem. I had the A/V guys turn off the cameras earlier this morning so I could set up my wards around my desk, and...” He paused again. “Crap. Interrogations.”

“Oh, yeah, that's gonna be a problem, isn't it? Can you make a chalk circle for watching and ...” Vance frowned. “We'll have to cross that bridge when we come to it, DiNozzo.” He slapped the table with his hand, and stood up. “Stay here, and brief Gibbs, since it sounds like you can. Keep thinking of ways to deal with it, alright? I'll note the change in your file. You might consider telling Dr Mallard. I think he knows too.”

“It might make a difference, yeah. I keep thinking about how my lungs are going to be so much better in a very short period of time.” He grinned.

“Didn't even think of that, DiNozzo. That's a good thing.” With another nod, he turned, and headed out the door.

“Alright, DiNozzo. Spill.” Tony grinned, reached for a glass to fill with water, took a sip, and then, after setting it down, he began.

Gibbs was understandably skeptical, but with a couple demonstrations, Tony won him over.


End file.
